K18 Flash Fiction
by koinekid
Summary: Stories of 1,000 words or less featuring Krillin and Eighteen. Guest stars include Seventeen, Bulma, and the ever adorable Marron. Topics include get-together, first kiss, married life, and child-rearing.
1. Do Cyborgs Dream of Normal Lives?

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Do Cyborgs Dream of Normal Lives?**

 **By Koinekid**

Standing along the seashore, she pondered, "Sometimes I think, wouldn't it be great if I could have a normal life?"

Beside her, Krillin laughed. "What's normal?"

Eighteen's face twisted in anger, and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. He apologized reflexively and asked her to clarify what _she_ meant by normal.

She shrugged. "Husband, kids, house, a job or maybe stay at home."

His heart constricted at her mention of a husband, and he tried to keep his voice steady while assuring her, "You can have all that."

"Yeah, right. Who would want to be with me?"

"Who wouldn't? Any man would be lucky to have you. You're smart, witty, beautiful."

"Who would want me, knowing _what_ I am? Admit it. Even you're bothered that I'm a cyborg."

Krillin looked horrified. "What gave you that idea?"

Eighteen sighed. "Your wish. You asked the dragon to make me and Seventeen human. You only settled for removing the bombs when he couldn't grant the first one."

"I made that wish so you and your brother could live peacefully. But I was wrong. You don't have to change who you are to do that. You just need to make the right choices, and you both have."

"Fine, you don't mind that I'm abnormal, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm—why are you frowning?"

Krillin swallowed hard. "Because what I'm about to say will probably drive you from the island."

"Like having me here, do you?" She grinned, at last allowing a little levity into her speech. But now Krillin looked deadly serious. "What is it?"

"Those things I told you—they're how I see you."

Her heart sped up. "Why aren't you looking at me?"

"Because it's taking everything I have just to say this. I'd lose courage if I looked at you. But you should know that there's one man who wants you already—me."

"Krillin?"

"Now, I know that I'm not on the top of anyone's list of potential suitors, and I don't want to make things awkward between us. Let's forget this conversation ever happened. We'll go on with our friendship until you meet a guy who will sweep you off your feet and give you the life you deserve."

"That's what you truly want?" Her voice grew husky, disguising some emotion he couldn't identify. He prayed he hadn't driven her out of his life. Not yet.

"I think it's for the best."

Eighteen stood directly in front of him and…flicked him in the forehead.

"OW! What are you—?"

"Idiot! A guy confesses to me, and I'm supposed to forget that. What kind of cold-hearted bitch do you take me for?"

"I never called you that!"

She paced around him in circles, and he had to turn to keep up with her.

"A cute guy whose friendship I treasure says he wants to be with me, and I'm supposed to pretend he never spoke up."

"Did you say cute?"

"I'm supposed to torture my dear friend by letting him see me every day, _pine for me_ every day, and never give him a chance?"

"I guess that's—"

"For pity's sake, I've got to give that guy _at least_ a single date, right? If not, he'll turn to despair." She had turned away to hide her smile, but she wheeled about to face him dramatically. "Krillin, you can't expect me to carry that on my conscience."

"I…am not going to lie to you. I'm a little confused."

"Then let me spell it out for you." She leaned in and kissed the spot she had flicked moments earlier. "Pick me up at eight. And wear something pretty."

A silly smile covered his face as her words finally sunk in. "All right."

"Krillin," she cooed, leaning close.

"Yeah, Eighteen?" He leaned close, too.

"It's five o'clock already. You've got reservations to make. Go."

As he hurried inside, she tapped her chin thoughtfully. Better make it two dates just to be safe.

It may not be a normal life, but she couldn't wait to see where it took her next.

 **Word Count: 681**

 ** _Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated._**


	2. Truer Words

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Truer Words**

 **By koinekid**

Last night, she told him with her body what she couldn't say with her words. She longed to speak her feelings, but whenever she tried, her heart raced, and her face flushed so crimson that he once asked if she were sick.

He made a big deal of it, pulling her from the heat of the sun to an area of shade beneath the island's only palm, then indoors, making her sit at the table and drink a glass of ice water. She wanted to be upset, but his concern only made her love him more. Too bad she couldn't tell him.

But here, in a tangle of limbs and sheets, sweat-soaked, with evidence of the night's exertions all around, she seized her chance.

Leaning as close as she dared, she whispered—"I love you, Krillin"—then reverently kissed one of his incense burns.

"I love you too, Eighteen," he returned without opening his eyes.

Her heart soared, and to hide her jubilation, she sat up and crossed her arms. "No fair. You were supposed to be asleep."

He grinned. "Sorry."

"Don't smirk. It's unbecoming."

"Yes, dear."

"Smartass."

"Heh."

 **Word Count: 189**

 ** _Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated._**


	3. A Wish Your Heart Makes

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **A Wish Your Heart Makes**

 **By Koinekid**

"What would you wish for if you could wish for _anything_?"

Krillin looked at Eighteen askance. "We have access to a magic dragon. I could wish for literally anything."

"That wish to turn me and my brother human didn't work."

" _Almost_ anything, then."

"Come on, Krillin. I'm bored. I want to play."

They were sitting on the beach in their swimwear on a rare day when they had the island to themselves. Their roommates left to attend a beer festival the day before, and to celebrate, Eighteen insisted Krillin take them both shopping for new swimsuits. Upon their return, she grabbed their beach towels and practically dragged him onto the sand.

"We could go for another swim," Krillin suggested.

She flicked sand at him. "You have one wish, and you have to use it for yourself. There's no crisis to avert, no one needs to be resurrected, and no one's around to guilt you into wishing for 'the right thing.' What is Krillin's no-holds-barred-i'm-finally-being-selfish-for-once-in-my-life wish?"

He looked away, uncomfortable. "Can't you ask something else?"

"Not now, I can't. You've got me intrigued."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Not a chance. Come on, Krillin. You promised to tell me the truth, remember?"

Krillin sighed. Lying wasn't an option with Eighteen. She had experienced enough deceptions and manipulations in her life already, and he promised himself long ago to always tell her the truth. He also made the mistake of once telling her that, and ever since, she brought it up whenever it was convenient for her.

"What I want," he said, "is something I couldn't wish for. Because if I did, it wouldn't come true."

She rose onto her knees and crawled across the sand to join him on his towel. Breaching his personal space like this was no longer an act of intimidation but a sign of their growing comfort around one another. She also liked to see him squirm. Just a little. "Please."

"You'll think it's depressing."

"Depressed is better than bored."

"Fine." Krillin huffed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"By now, I can't say you didn't _annoy_ me."

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment to summon his courage. "I would wish for someone to…to genuinely love me."

Eighteen sat up on her heels, a horrified look on her face. "Ha-have you made that wish?"

"What? No! If I did something like that, it wouldn't be real love." He busied himself brushing sand off his towel so he wouldn't have to look at her.

She gave a hollow laugh, relief evident in her tone as she said, "I guess, if it's fake love you're after, you could always ask for money or fame."

"Or to be taller or to"—his voice hitched—"have a nose."

"Oh, Krillin." She laid a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Believe me, I've thought about it. But if I changed my appearance like that, it wouldn't be me they loved, just some fake version of me. And I'd always know that." He released a heavy breath. "Sorry, I told you this would be depress—"

Eighteen enfolded him in a hug. Her own voice choked with emotion, she assured him, "Anyone who didn't love the real you would be unworthy of you."

He placed a hand on her back. "Thanks, Eighteen."

Withdrawing from the hug, she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to the spot where a nose would be. "Someone who loves the real you might not be worthy either, but she'd like to—"

The sound of an air car speeding over the waves broke apart their embrace, and she scrambled back to her own towel. As their roommates arrived, ogling Eighteen and wilting under her threats to keep their eyes to themselves, Krillin pondered her words—and treasured them. That night as he lay in bed, a knock sounded on his door. She entered and continued where she had left off. When she had poured out her heart and said the words he longed to hear, he drew her into his arms and tearfully said them back. The best wishes, he reflected, don't need a magic dragon to make them come true. They only need two people willing to let down their barriers and speak honestly to one another.

 **Word Count: 718**

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


	4. Sobriquet

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Sobriquet**

 **By Koinekid**

"Good night, honey," muttered a sleepy Krillin.

Eighteen sat up in bed. "What did you call me?"

Krillin blinked away his exhaustion. What _had_ he called her? "I don't know."

"You called me _honey_."

"Yeah? We are getting married next month, and pet names go with the territory."

Her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not _honey_."

"Well, not literally, but you can be sweet _sometimes_." He grinned, reaching out to squeeze her bicep.

She raised a brow. Not amused.

"I'm not sure what we're talking about, Eighteen."

She sighed, exasperated. "Krillin, I'm _babe._ You're _honey_."

"Oh? Oh, does it matter? Those sorts of pet names are interchangeable. You can be honey one day and darling the next. It's all the same."

"I'm _babe_ ," she insisted.

Krillin had no clue why his fiancée considered this so important, but he knew better than to fight her about it. He sat up and kissed her cheek, grateful when she accepted it without turning away. "Sorry, babe. You're right."

She kissed his mouth. "Thank you, honey."

"My pleasure." He settled into bed and, as sleep was claiming him, sighed and murmured without thinking, "Pleasant dreams, sweetheart."

His eyes opened wide. _Uh-oh._

 **Word Count: 198**

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


	5. The One That Got Away

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 _ **Note:**_ _I usually disregard the anime-exclusive character featured in today's story, but this scenario kept coming back to me._

 **The One That Got Away**

 **By Koinekid**

Eighteen read the name on the sales clerk's tag and took an instant liking to her. Becoming a parent changed one's perspective. Where before she would have dismissed the woman as an airhead for her bubbly personality, she now saw her as someone's daughter. That made all the difference in the world.

"Could I get your opinion on these, _Maron_?"

Beaming, the blue-haired clerk directed Eighteen toward the fitting room. Separate from the rest of the boutique to protect its clientele from the prying eyes of other mall-goers, the room contained several curtained-off booths. This early in the morning, the women were alone, and Maron stood outside Eighteen's booth, conversing with her while she changed. Buttering up the blonde could land her a fat commission.

"What's the occasion?"

"Hmm?"

"For the lingerie? In my experience, most women buy it for three reasons: to feel better about themselves, to impress someone, or to celebrate something. Judging by that rock on your finger, I'm thinking celebration."

"It's our anniversary," Eighteen replied.

"How long?"

"One year."

"That's usually paper," Maron said. "Or a clock."

"What?"

"There's this whole list of gifts you're supposed to give based on how long you've been married. First year is paper or clocks. Then cotton or china, leather or crystal, and the fourth year is silk or appliances."

Eighteen stepped out of the booth. "Oh? Should I wait three years to buy this?"

Maron gasped. "With a figure like that, your man will be too busy mopping up his puddle of drool to care about the year."

Eighteen blushed. "Are the garters too much?"

"Definitely not. He will love this, trust me."

"You recommend the black set, then?"

"I think so, but let's see the red to be sure."

When Eighteen exited the booth this time, it was with decidedly less confidence. Maron couldn't imagine why. The cut of the panties revealed more, but the blonde hadn't a flaw on her body.

"Do I look okay?"

"Okay? _I'm_ practically drooling, and I don't go for women."

Eighteen nodded, unconvinced. "My pregnancy weight isn't noticeable?"

"You were pregnant?"

"Yeah. Our little girl is four months old."

"I couldn't tell. You're just…wow!"

Another blush. "Thanks. Shedding these last few kilos has been a struggle."

"Four months?" Maron did the calculation. "Did you have to rush to the altar before you started to show?"

Eighteen frowned. Ordinarily, such a comment would provoke her, but this woman seemed genuine, if tactless. "I didn't waddle down the aisle if that's what you're asking." Her eyes misted over as she recalled her wedding day. "We hadn't announced the pregnancy yet, so my husband smuggled in a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne for the toast."

"That's so sweet."

"It was, though the stuff tasted awful." Eighteen returned to the booth to change into her street clothes.

"Your husband sounds like a gem. Wish I could meet a guy like him."

"He saved me in so many ways, and I couldn't imagine life without him."

Maron sighed dreamily. "I'll bet he's a hunk."

Eighteen laughed. Not because she disagreed but because Krillin's looks paled in comparison to everything else that attracted her to the man. "I think so, though not everyone would agree."

"Reminds me of someone I once knew. I never should've let him go."

Eighteen emerged from the booth, wondering if she should say something. But Maron put on a brave face and asked, "Which will it be?"

"Both,"Eighteen decided. "The black for our anniversary and the red to surprise him later."

Maron clapped her hands. "I like the way you think. And my sales commission agrees."

At the checkout, Eighteen thought about how Krillin's love had improved her life and decided to speak up. "Maybe it isn't too late."

Maron blinked at her.

"About the guy you mentioned." Eighteen leaned it to ensure the other clerks couldn't overhear. "If he's available, you should give it another shot."

Slowly, Marron nodded. "Maybe I will. Thanks, um…"

"Eighteen."

"That's an unusual name."

"I'm an unusual person," Eighteen granted.

* * *

As her customer departed, Maron mulled over her words. Krillin treated her better than any man she ever knew, and she had known plenty. Of course she deserved another chance at happiness, and as luck would have it, her chance had just arrived. The very man she was fantasizing about was in _her_ mall, headed toward _her_ store! His head and shoulders were visible over the row of posters covering the bottom of the windows. What were the odds?

"Camie, I'm taking my break."

"Okay, Maron. Back in fifteen?"

Maron grunted dismissively. She hadn't time to primp, but Krillin always insisted she was beautiful without makeup. Other men said the same, but he meant it.

As he neared the entrance, Maron saw Eighteen pause in the doorway. She'd better move. Though Maron liked the blonde, she wouldn't hesitate to elbow past her.

She started for the doorway, and her stomach dropped as Krillin came into view, carrying an infant in a sling across his chest. He stopped in front of the blonde, who pressed a kiss to his lips before stooping to plant one on the child's forehead. _Their_ child, who gurgled happily at her mother's touch.

Krillin teased the opening of Eighteen's shopping bag, and she gently scolded him for trying to peek inside. Then she looked up and waved to Maron. Before Krillin could spot her, she concealed her face behind a sales flyer and stayed that way until she was sure that Krillin—and his family—were gone.

"Short break," Camie said when Maron returned to slump behind the register.

Maron glared at her. After a moment's consideration, she also flipped her off.

 **Word Count: 954**

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


	6. Yippee Ki-yay

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Yippee Ki-yay**

 **By Koinekid**

Eighteen winced at her reflection in the mirror. There must be something else to wear.

But she'd ransacked her closet and come up empty. A rambunctious five-year-old and a husband on late night shifts all month long left her little time to keep up with her housework. She'd simply put off laundry once too often and was left with only— _sigh_ —her western wear.

The fringes alone violated several laws of good taste. She was hardly a trendsetter these days, having exchanged high fashion for high chairs when their little chestnut came along, but if she stepped out of the house like this, her nosy neighbors would never let her hear the end of it. The boots were nice, though. She would have to work them into her regular rotation.

Eighteen didn't know why she even kept the outfit after Chi-Chi returned it. Leaving it in a heap on the Sons' bedroom floor when she trashed the place had been her way of tossing it out. But she accepted it with good grace and promptly shoved it into the back of her closet as soon as she arrived home. She meant to throw it out once again before the move from Kame House to Satan City, but Krillin must have packed it in one of the , that made her fashion faux pas his fault. _Hmm._

Emptying the contents of the bedroom hamper into a laundry basket, she crept into her daughter's room to gather her dirty clothes. Eighteen's heart melted as it ever did when she spied her little bundle of energy at rest, and she resisted the impulse to nuzzle her cheek. No need to disturb the little one's slumber. She'd be chasing her around the house soon enough.

She was surprised to find Marron was the only one sleeping in the house. Krillin's shift ended two hours ago, and she expected to find him sacked out on the couch, not sitting idly watching the morning news with a cup of coffee in front of him.

Eighteen missed his presence in their bed, but he insisted on sleeping downstairs while on night shift. _Don't want to wake my ladies_ , he said. She thought the sentiment silly until the night he bumped into their bedside table, and Marron screamed her head off in the next room, thinking there was an intruder. Turns out daddy's little firefly was more disturbed by his recent absences than she let on.

Standing on the stairs, Eighteen balanced the basket against her hip. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

He looked at her and started to respond, only to pause. She had almost forgotten what she was wearing until she saw his mischievous smirk. _Uh-oh._

"Howdy, buckaroo."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I hate you right now."

"That's no way for a cowpoke to talk."

"Your accent is terrible." She descended the stairs and went about tidying up the living room, intent on ignoring him. If only it were that easy.

"Aw, little lady, you're hurting my feelings."

She bit back a retort about which one of them should be called _little_. "Do you _want_ to sleep downstairs tonight?"

"In the corral with them other varmints? Surely not, missy."

"Krillin! I am warning you." That warning was silenced by two arms encircling her waist and pulling her against a strong chest.

"I'd much rather sleep in the bunkhouse with you," he murmured.

She swallowed hard, fighting the blush inexplicably creeping into her cheeks. "You—you keep this up, and I'll have to…to brand you."

"Already been branded." He rubbed his forehead into her back.

"This'll be a place only I can see."

"Tell me more."

No sooner had he released her than she dropped her laundry basket and whipped around, sending her garment's fringe flying. She was on him, and they tumbled to the floor, all frantic hands and eager kisses. Apparently, she'd been missing him in her bed even more than she realized.

Catching his breath, he nodded toward the stairs that led to their bedroom. "Bunkhouse?"

She grinned. "I'll bring the lariat."

 **Word Count:** 681

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_

 _ **Note:**_ _A sequel to this story, tentatively titled "Aces and Eighteens," is coming out shortly. It will be published in the anthology series Kame Island Romance._


	7. The Kiss I Get from You

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **The Kiss I Get from You**

 **By Koinekid**

* * *

… _the kiss I love the most_

 _Is the kiss I get from you._

—"There's A Kiss" by Jennifer Hanson

As his lips left hers, Eighteen fought the urge to moan. Though successful, she couldn't stop her tongue darting out to taste the remnants of his kiss, nor keep Krillin from noticing her blush.

The desire to kiss him had been building for weeks, ever since she first invited him to her room. Normally, they spent their time together on the beach or atop the roof, but the weather looked unpleasant that day. She'd also been cleaning out her closet and stacked her chair full of clothes, leaving her bed as the only place for them to sit. As the weeks passed, she continued extending invitations and finding convenient excuses for why they couldn't use her chair. As for why she sat progressively closer to him each time? Fortunately, he never asked, because she couldn't have explained without resorting to the unthinkable and telling him the truth.

Now that her plan had reached its crescendo and the truth been revealed, she couldn't escape one thought: Was Krillin really as incredible a kisser as he seemed, or was it only that she had no one to compare him to?

As they stared at one another, uncertain how to proceed, a second thought joined the first: Was _she_ any good? Krillin hadn't said anything. But what was he supposed to do—compliment her technique? Give her a rating?

Maybe she did something wrong. But how do you kiss wrong? It's just pressing your mouths together, moving your lips, and your tongue.

Her blush returned.

"How was it?" she blurted.

"The kiss?"

She crossed her arms. "Of course, the kiss. What else would I mean?"

"Oh. Wonderful." He rubbed the back of his head, his hand making a scratching sound as it brushed against a week's worth of hair growth. "I sure wasn't expecting it."

"How…how did it"—she grew very quiet—"compare?"

He leaned in, close enough to fan her desire to continue where they left off. "Did you say, _compare_?"

"Yeah, you know, to others you've…kissed. There have been others, right?" She held her breath.

"Some." He looked uncomfortable. "Have you kissed other guys?"

"Of course!" she answered too quickly. "Tons of 'em. I…just can't remember."

He raised a brow, a smile teasing his lips. "Tons?"

She turned away. "I can't help it if I lost my memory. I didn't ask to be experimented on, you know."

"I know."

"And would it be a crime if I hadn't been kissed before? We can't all be kissing masters like the great Krillin. I wasn't a student of the perverted Turtle Hermit. I'm sure he gave you plenty of tips."

Her words lost steam as Krillin ran his fingers across the back of her hand and up her arm. Facing him, she swallowed hard at his intense gaze.

"So, you're out of practice," he whispered, his breath tickling her cheek. "We can remedy that."

"And how do you suggest we do that? Oh."

Krillin smiled, and it was a good thing Eighteen was seated, because she suddenly felt weak in the knees.

Minutes later, he blew gently on her swollen lips, causing her to shiver. At least now she had her answer—he really was that good.

"There were only two others," Krillin offered.

Eighteen blinked in confusion, having forgotten most of their conversation. "Hmm?"

"The girls I kissed. There were two of them, and neither compared to this, to you."

Pleased, she toyed with the collar of his shirt. "I'm the best, huh?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Good." Still, "Who were they?"

"Eighteen, I'm not going to answer that."

"Why, do I know either of them?"

He squirmed, and she tightened her hold on his shirt.

"Krillin?"

"Um…" His eyes widened as he thought of something. "I _could_ tell you, or"—he smiled slyly—"we could make out some more."

Letting out a sigh, she pulled on his shirt until their lips met and wiped the smirk from his face.

 **Word Count:** 657

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


	8. Eye of the Beholder

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Eye of the Beholder**

 **By Koinekid**

Eighteen stared into the crib and wondered, not for the first time, how something so innocent could come from her. She made peace with her past long ago, aided by her husband's unconditional love and healthy doses of forgiveness and encouragement. But nothing could erase her former misdeeds. Wasn't she still the same rotten kid who stole for thrills and swore it would always be her and her brother against the world?

No, not by a long shot. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes from her daughter's peaceful sleeping form to the framed picture of her and Krillin that sat on the dresser. "So she'll know we're always watching over her," he said when placing it there.

"And we always will," Eighteen vowed.

"Will what?" came a voice from the hall.

She cut her eyes at the voice's owner, her glare momentarily freezing him in place.

Her brother swallowed hard and mouthed a sorry. "Do I get to see the baby now?" He carried an open beer, and she gazed longingly at it. _No alcohol when you're pregnant or breastfeeding_ , the doctor said, and she wanted to throttle him.

She nodded at Seventeen but held a finger over her lips in a signal to keep quiet.

He grinned, but as soon as he saw Marron for the first time, an uneasy look passed over his face. But Eighteen was ignoring him, both hands on the railing of the crib as she fought the urge to lift the little girl into her arms and cuddle her. She'd sneaked away to do just that several times during dinner, leaving Seventeen and Krillin to listen in on her cooing sounds over the baby monitor. As for her assurances and promises that _Mama loves you so much_ and _You're so beautiful, Marron_ —Seventeen could hardly believe those words came from his sister. Krillin, meanwhile, couldn't keep the silly smile off his face. When Eighteen disappeared the last time and didn't come back for a full ten minutes, Krillin encouraged her brother to join her while he cleared the table and started on the dishes.

Watching the girl sleep, Seventeen placed a hand on Eighteen's shoulder. He imagined the years of torment ahead for Marron as people reacted to her deformity. He didn't envy his sister for the challenges she would have to guide her daughter through.

He tried to keep his voice level as he whispered, "She doesn't have a nose."

"I know." Unable to hold back any longer, Eighteen caressed the empty area above the girl's mouth, causing her to gurgle in her sleep. "Isn't she perfect?"

His sister's tone held no irony, no attempts to reassure herself or deny an uncomfortable truth, only the purity of a mother's love.

He reached into the crib and, at Eighteen's nod of approval, stroked Marron's cheek. The girl stirred and grasped his finger. And in that moment, Seventeen fell in love. "Yeah, she's perfect."

Eighteen squeezed his arm. "Come on, Uncle. Let's let the little firefly sleep."

He raised a brow at the unusual nickname.

"Krillin's idea," she explained as they strolled down the hall. "I think it fits."

"Because she lights up your lives?" he teased.

Eighteen nodded, completely serious.

"You know you're turning into the type of person we would've made fun of before?"

She merely shrugged.

Pausing, he glanced back at Marron's room. "Do you mind if I visit more often?"

"Do I mind if you do the thing I've been after you to do for years? Yeah, it'll be fine."

He rolled his eyes.

"Besides, spending time with Marron will be good practice for when you finally give me a niece or nephew."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." He gestured at her with his beer can. "And you'd better not try to play matchmaker with me."

"Relax, Seventeen. The only women I know well are Vegeta's wife and Goku's widow." Eighteen stroked her chin. "Hmm."

"Don't even joke about that."

"Yeah, somehow I don't picture you raising two kids right away. Start with one."

"I'll stick with being the fun uncle for a while, thanks."

Eighteen smiled. "My daughter couldn't have a better one."

 **Word Count: 693**

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


	9. I Wanna Touch It

_**Note:**_ _I freely admit this is an unusual one._

 _For the Chestnut Fest 2019 Birthday Prompt. Thanks to chestnutisland on tumblr (CD4j on FFN) for organizing the event once again._

 _###_

 _Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **I Wanna Touch It**

 **By Koinekid**

Eighteen widened her eyes. "You want to touch _what_?" When she told Krillin she would grant him one birthday wish, she meant treating him to dinner or a movie. She could see where he might get the impression she was offering more. They were sitting on her bed, after all, but where else were they supposed to spend time together in this small crowded house?

Krillin's eyes did some widening of their own. "I didn't mean _that_!"

"What did you mean? Hell, Krillin, we haven't even kissed yet."

"I meant—did you say _yet_?"

"D-don't get sidetracked."

"Sorry. I meant…well, it's kind of embarrassing."

"More embarrassing than what I thought you meant?"

"Good point." To avoid losing his nerve, he averted his gaze. "Iwannatouchyournose."

"Did you say _my nose_?"

He nodded, blushing furiously.

"Why? It's just a—oh."

"You don't have to let me. It's just I've never touched one, and it's my birthday, and you did ask, and—"

Eighteen pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm." She scooted closer to him and leaned in.

"Could you close your eyes?"

"Why? So you can try some funny stuff?"

"Of course not. It's weird with you looking at me."

She huffed but complied. Teasing Krillin could be such fun. The first sensation made her gasp. His hand jerked away, and he apologized.

"It's fine," she said. "You startled me. Go on. Just tell me when you're about to touch."

"Now," he whispered, and his forefinger traced the line of her nose from bridge to tip. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she couldn't have opened them if she wanted to. Then two fingers caressed the side, grazing the delicate flesh beneath her left eye. She shuddered as his finger moved to where her nose met her upper lip. _Keep going_ , she silently urged, imagining that finger teasing her bottom lip.

But he stopped, his hand returning to her nostrils, squeezing gently and almost making her sneeze. She pulled away and opened her eyes.

"Sorry, did I—?"

Her smile stopped him. "Do you want to kiss it?" She almost expected him to ask, _Kiss what?_ But he merely nodded and leaned forward to place a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose.

They both grinned. "This is getting weird, isn't it?" Krillin asked.

"Little bit. One more kiss?"

"All right."

When he leaned in, she raised her head slightly so that his lips missed their intended target and found a better one.

"Happy Birthday, Krillin."

 **Word Count:** 420

 _ **The End.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


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